


Don't look now

by Pinophyta



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism, one sided pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8897089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinophyta/pseuds/Pinophyta
Summary: Glaz spies on Blitz and Montagne having a tender moment. He starts thinking about a certain someone from his team, and about how he wishes their relationship was like...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Glaz/Tachanka is the main pairing. I ship a lot of different pairs. I like Montagne/Blitz because of the shields.
> 
> One part for now. If I continue I will focus on Glaz/Tachanka.
> 
> I don't know what else to say, it's a tiny fandom, I hope someone out there enjoys it...

He was just calibrating the new flip-sigh. Glaz could and would swear on it, if pressed. He only meant to do a quick test, see how well the focus worked on the building next door. It was a rainy night and the vision wasn't great. That's why his attention was drawn immediately by the warm light coming from the windows on the second floor. 

Of course, barracks don't have curtains, so when a shirtless muscular man paraded himself flexing in front of the window, Glaz saw. The man in question was none other than Montagne, and judging by the faces of his fellow french operators in the room, he was doing it for their amusement. The doctor was laughing, and Rook whistled at him. Twitch rolled her eyes and grabbed a toolkit near her bed. She unceremoniously left the room, probably off to tinker with one of her beloved drones. 

They appeared to be exchanging some quips Glaz would not understand even if he could hear them. To his disappointment, Montagne's posing had a more humorous rather than erotic intent. Even Glaz was surprised by the thought, as he hadn't paid much attention to the french operative before. But he had a rather nice physique, and he could only admit it. And remain watching a little longer, perhaps. 

Sadly for him, the man put on a t-shirt not long after. It was black and tight and hugged his figure beautifully. Glaz felt the urge to cover his sigh and stop before his thoughts continued in that direction, but now he couldn't look away. 

The doctor said something that made Montagne laugh, and whatever it was, Rook approached the doctor with a hurt expression. The man reached in his pocket and held something in front of Rook. Glaz zoomed in a little closer and saw that it was a coin. Eventually they turned to Montagne, and after waving him goodbye they left the room. 

Montagne was left tidying up his gear, calm and relaxed. Glaz looked at him, thoughtful. He was a respectable veteran, experienced and wise, always ready to protect and teach others. Admirable, even. He wished he knew him a little better, and he could not deny that his feelings were starting to go a bit further than professional admiration. The man had some grey on his hair and piercing blue eyes, not to mention the sturdy physique of someone used to carrying extremely heavy protective equipment around. 

Montagne leaned on the bunk beds, laying an arm on it and then resting his head against it. He closed his eyes and sighed. Glaz was about to look away, the guilt of invading someone's privacy catching up to him, when a figure appeared in the door to the french team's room. 

It took him a second to recognize him, so used to seeing him geared up, but his affable face and sweet expression were easy enough to remember. Glaz did not remember his name, but he knew he was called “Blitz”. He was gently knocking on the door frame, trying to get Montagne's attention. 

The man welcomed him in, and Glaz could have sworn the German operator looked a bit bashful. They held an amicable conversation for a few minutes. Judging by the gesturing they exchanged, they were talking about different ways to fight with a shield. Perhaps Blitz had been going to Montagne for advice over the past months, seeing as how the younger man favored a shield too. Montagne grabbed his shoulder and patted his back in more than one occasion, and the way Blitz blushed made Glaz think the veteran was paying him a considerable amount of compliments. 

There was a lull in the conversation right after they both laughed, and both men stared at each other for seconds on end. Glaz looked back and forth between them, verifying that neither of them was talking. The silence seemed to extend for an interminable age, until Montagne walked forward and Blitz stared into his eyes as he approached. 

He didn't know what Montagne said, but Blitz's face turned red in an instant. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, stuttering his answer. Montagne laughed and that seemed to relax Blitz. He leaned forward, encouraged, and with one final step they were at optimal distance for kissing. And so they did. 

It was hurried and very intense. They knew the door was still open and that they could be interrupted in an instant. But from the way they held each other, Glaz could tell they had been waiting for this to happen for a while. 

It made sense, after all, the German and French teams had been working together on several missions over the past few months. Both operators favored shields, and it must have been the starting point of their developing friendship. 

Glaz put down his rifle, sighing wearily, feeling a pang of jealousy within him. In the span of a few minutes he had gone from noticing Montagne's appeal, to learning that he was not available anymore. Even though he had no intention of approaching the man, the sense of having lost an opportunity hurt anyway. What he was truly jealous about was simply having someone close, someone to be intimate with. The fact that they had an imposing physique, the kind that would be excellent to keep one warm at night, was merely a coincidence. For sure. 

He sat in the darkness of the room, rifle on his lap, watching the rain fall while thinking about how nice it would be to have a partner while deployed. A partner in every sense of the word. Someone from his own team, even. Someone like Montagne: big, rugged, older... 

The lights turned on, and he was shaken out of his thoughts. He turned around, startled, and saw Tachanka walking into the room. 

“Glaz? What are you doing sitting here in the darkness?” he said, throwing some clean shirts on his bed. “Want to come down and play darts with us?” 

He could not explain or justify why his heart was beating so hard in his chest, but he felt as if he had been caught red handed doing something reprehensible. 

He had been thinking about Tachanka all along. He should have known. Perhaps he did, but he was too ashamed to accept it. Tachanka was the perfect answer to all his questions. When he had imagined the perfect man to sleep next to, he had been picturing Tachanka. When he had wished for a strong presence next to him, he was also wearing the Spetsnaz uniform. 

When he pictured the hands of a strong man touching him, firm but gentle, they were Tachanka's. But as long as he did not imagine his face, and his eyes looking back at him, he could deny it. 

He inhaled deeply and tried to still his voice. “Sure, I will be right there.” 

Tachanka walked out of the room and Glaz gave one last look to the building at the other side of the base. The lights on the second floor were off now. Blitz and Montagne had probably gone off to join the rest of their teams, or were shrouded in that darkness doing something more fun. 

Glaz sighed and looked down at the rifle on his lap. He put it back in its case with care, and then contemplated going straight to bed instead of joining the others. He knew he would spend the night covertly looking at Tachanka and looking away every time he looked back. 

He laughed at himself, at feeling like a foolish boy again. Then he remembered who he was, and the feeling in his chest turned from constrictive to refreshing. 

He grabbed his jacket and turned off the lights before leaving. The promise of beer and possibly humiliating Kapkan at darts was too good to pass. He'd give it a try.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tachanka and Glaz have some bonding time together. Tachanka notices how different Glaz is when in a small group, and he likes it. It's not the only thing he likes about Glaz, but he tries to brush those thoughts aside...

Tachanka was used to all kinds of extreme weather conditions. Having to travel through muddy fields, however, was an experience so miserable that it made him long for the cold tundra, or a dusty desert.

The rain had given them a break, but it didn't matter much. The air was humid, the terrain was drenched, and every step took twice as much effort. And to make matters worse, they were only in a hurry because somebody had turned the route they had to walk into a bet.

So now the Spetsnaz team walked divided, with Tachanka and Glaz going through one path, and Kapkan and Fuze through the other. He didn't remember what sparked the bet, or what exactly was at stake other than pride, but all of his brothers had been eager to accept, so he had little choice on the matter.

He huffed his way through one particularly thick bit of terrain, trying to catch up with Glaz. The sniper was crouching behind a small rocky wall, near some bushes, looking down the valley through binoculars.

When Tachanka crouched next to him, visibly thankful for the small respite, Glaz smirked.

“Don't tell me you are winded already...” he teased.

“Come on, you are not carrying all of this!” Tachanka said, rattling all the extra equipment on him. “I'm going to sink in the mud!”

Both chuckled. It was hard to get mad at Glaz. Specially when his scarf was down he was smiling bright.

Interacting with Glaz one-on-one was... different. Tachanka regretted that it didn't happen more often. He talked more, and smiled more. And there was something about making Glaz laugh that felt good, like a small personal victory every time it happened. Seeing Glaz being radiant and happy while on that miserable muddy run was enough to keep him going.

“Perhaps I should have teamed up with Fuze...” Glaz added, cheeky.

“Bullshit. Shuhrat wishes he could last as long as me with all this weight.”

Fuze was younger, but he traveled heavy and wasn't a runner anyway. Kapkan was another matter entirely. He had an instinct for navigating terrains, and without Fuze to drag him down he could probably get to the outpost way before the estimated time. In a way, Fuze would be to him what Tachanka was being to Glaz: a burden, to keep the race even.

Glaz patted him on the shoulder.

“Well, at least I know that if I get tired, you can just drop the things and carry me. There won't be much difference, right?”

Tachanka pictured himself hauling Glaz over his shoulder and laughed.

“I could take you AND the equipment to the finish line!”

Glaz cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps that could be a bet for another time? Come on, let's get going!”

Glaz used Tachanka's shoulder to push himself up. Tachanka groaned in protest, sinking in the mud a bit more. Glaz had already resumed the march. He jogged up to him, breathing a bit heavier than he would have liked.

Fifteen minutes later they reached the edge of the forest. Following the path would get them to base in approximately 10 minutes, but Glaz hoped they could make it in 5. They were making good time, but he was starting to feel exhausted. And judging by Tachanka's focused silence and heavy breathing, he must too.

Even with all their regular training, his entire body felt sore. His feet were cold, and he was sure mud had made its way under his clothes somehow. He could not wait for this jaunt to be over.

“When we get there,” Glaz began, wistful “I'm going straight for the showers. I'm going to stay under the hot water for hours...”

Tachanka shared the sentiment. Feeling clean and warm at the end of a day like that was one of the biggest pleasures for a soldier. However, he couldn't help poking a little fun at Glaz.

“Bah, this is nothing! I've seen much worse conditions than this.”

Glaz turned around. “Really? Care to share?”

Tachanka took a moment to think. Memories of several missions under harsh, rainy weather came to his mind. Walking in the mud was tough, but getting mouthfuls of it while doing push-ups was worse.

But not all of his mud-related memories were bad. He remembered the wrestling sessions his old company used to arrange during one particularly dull spring. They had a makeshift ring behind the barracks, and mud wresting remained the most popular pastime at the base for several weeks.

The shower sex they used to have afterwards was great, too. It was an extension of the wrestling, in a way. Sometimes it was a good way to break a tie. He couldn't remember the names of the soldiers he did it with. But he remembered their bodies, their skin covered in mud being washed by hot water. He remembered his hands trailing down hard muscle, helping brush off the grime. He remembered the shine of wet skin, the taste of lips, the smell of man after a tough fight.

Glaz's voice took him out of those memories.

“You got nothing, do you?”

Tachanka looked at Glaz, ready to prove him wrong, but his mind remained elsewhere. He stared at Glaz for a few seconds, noticing his face paint. Glaz must have washed it off while in the showers a thousand times. Tachanka had never paid attention to it, yet now his mind was racing with questions. He wondered if the paint dripped down his neck when he washed it. And in a second, Tachanka found himself picturing Glaz's naked body under a hot water stream, not unlike the bodies of other soldiers he so fondly remembered.

He looked away, snapping himself out of it. He didn't want to think about Glaz that way. Specially when those thoughts were making him so unreasonably warm.

“I can't think of one specific mission right now!” he said, defensive. He ignored Glaz's look. “But we were so unfazed by the mud, that we used to wrestle in it. Do you think you could handle that?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Glaz answered without hesitation. “But maybe another time, alright? After walking on mud all day I don't feel like rolling in it some more.”

Tachanka laughed. “That sounds like an excuse to me. Are you afraid of getting dirty, Glaz?

Glaz turned around just so Tachanka could see him roll his eyes.

“I burrow in the earth for camouflage. You don't know how filthy I can get.”

Tachanka began laughing so hard, he had to stop for a second.

“Pray tell, how much dirtier can you get?”

“Well...” now it was time for Glaz to reminisce. “One time in France, I had a partner famous for the camo he improvised from raw materials. He did my getup, and he was very... thorough. The camo was good, but for the next week and a half I kept pulling dead leaves out of my clothes. Including underwear.”

Tachanka had seen Glaz in full camouflage gear only a few times. The operations team Rainbow undertook these days didn't involve nature very often, but they did maneuvers sometimes. He pictured Glaz decked in a hand-made ghillie suit, with rotting autumn leaves crammed everywhere. He laughed.

“And that was your filthiest?”

Glaz eyed him sideways. “Tachanka, you're not ready for my filthiest.”

After a few seconds of silence, they burst into laughter.

They continued in silence, which only made it harder for Tachanka to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head.

Glaz was... a good soldier. Quiet, but reliable. Loyal to his team. And yes, he was fairly attractive. It wasn't the first time that thought crossed his mind, but there was a difference between admiring the looks of a brother, and thinking about him... that way.

Tachanka was no stranger to fraternization, but he wasn't a young recruit anymore. And even though they technically shared the same rank, Glaz was 20 years younger than him. It didn't feel right.

Perhaps he just had too much pent up energy. He hadn't had any company in a long time. Even the company of his own hand was scarce these days. No wonder thinking about hot showers had such an effect on him.

He tried to brush the thoughts off his mind. Even if Glaz liked the company of men, he deserved better than an old man like him.

They arrived at the base, exhausted and covered in mud up to their waist. The guards welcomed them, and among them, a very smug looking Kapkan waved them over.

Glaz groaned, and Tachanka sighed, not surprised in the slightest. Their mood quickly turned around when they noticed Fuze was nowhere to be seen, and Kapkan seemed somewhat indifferent to his fate. Only when Glaz and Tachanka began chanting their victory and calling him a cheater did he realize his mistake. It didn't matter how much he tried to argue: victory could only be achieved as a team.

Without skipping a beat, Tachanka firmly held Glaz in the air when he jumped on top of him. He didn't flinch or waver, his body acted on instinct, leaning back and grabbing Glaz's legs. He continued marching towards the main building, while Glaz waved and hollered, and even though his body was killing him, he couldn't feel it.

They had won, and even though he didn't know exactly what they had won, he felt exhilarated regardless. Glaz's arm was firm around his neck, and his whole body was so on top of him he had difficulty seeing where he was going.

He loved every second of it.


End file.
